13. Shattering Glass
13
Shattering Glass
The next few Saturdays, Ben and Uncle Henry came to set day to help build Caroline’s nest. It was awkward, but we pushed through it. I was amicable and polite. Ben was overly helpful, staying later than my other stagehands. He initiated conversation, but I kept my responses short and sweet.
Eli and I texted back and forth a few times, but we hadn’t hooked up again. Even though Ben and I weren’t together, it still felt like a betrayal of sorts. And Eli deserved better than being a booty call, same as me. So we were tentatively skirting around the edge of being friends. Which was weird.
The weekend before tech week, Dad and I had dinner at Uncle Rick’s. Sadie and Dan joined us, and I spent Saturday afternoon letting Lily do my makeup. I ensured Anna suffered as well, and by the time Lily finished, both Anna and I looked like clowns.
“Best day ever.” Anna laughed as she squished her cheek against mine and snapped a selfie.
“I look like a cheap hooker,” I grumbled low enough that Lily wouldn’t hear, and Anna laughed harder.
“Drama queen.”
Sadie retrieved a package of makeup remover wipes from Anna’s bedroom and tossed them our way, dark eyes sparkling with humor as she took us in. “I think my daughter’s going to be a makeup artist when she’s older.”
“Definitely,” I said, poking Lily’s belly as she giggled. “Good job, Lily Bug. You did great.”
“You look pwetty,” she said with a grin, and I pulled her close to kiss her chubby cheek.
“Only because you’re so good at makeup.”
She glowed with pride at that, before skipping toward Uncle Rick. “Gwampa, look at how pwetty Silas looks.”
Dad shook with silent laughter as Uncle Rick complimented Lily’s talent, and I rolled my eyes as I took a wet wipe to my face.
“So,” Anna started, and I narrowed my eyes at her as she offered an overly innocent smile. “Uncle Charlie told Dad that you and your boyfriend broke up.”
I groaned. “I swear they gossip like old ladies.”
“They really do.” She laughed before sobering. “You okay? I mean, we didn’t even know you had a boyfriend—”
“I’m fine,” I said shortly as I wiped off the last remnants of makeup. “It just didn’t work out.”
I stood up and brushed past Sadie as Anna called after me. I didn’t stop. I locked myself in the bathroom and cringed at my reflection. I still had glitter all over my cheeks. Awesome.
In my truck after dinner, I drove carefully through the sleeting rain-snow mixture. My wipers smeared the slush across the windshield as I guided Mabel through town. The passing streetlamps flashed over Dad’s face, illuminating his features every few seconds, but I felt more than saw his gaze on me.
“What?” I finally asked halfway through the drive home.
“I didn’t say anything,” Dad said.
I barely held back an eye roll. “Not with your mouth, maybe.”
“Oh, I can speak telepathically now, can I? Interesting.” He settled more comfortably in the passenger seat.
“Just spit it out already.”
Dad puckered his lip, then sighed. “Are you doing okay, son?”
“I’m fine,” I answered automatically. Judging from his expression, he didn’t believe me. I released a heavy breath through my nose. “What do you want me to say? He kissed someone else. We broke up. It is what it is.”
“Is this the part where I say you don’t need a man to complete you?” Dad said with a grimace, and I burst into laughter.
“Oh my God, Dad!”
“Sorry, I just hate seeing you this way.” He rubbed the back of his neck, flustered.
The truck idled at a stoplight.
I said, “Like what?”
Dad shrugged. “Sad.”
One simple word, but it hit like a punch to the sternum.
As I accelerated through the intersection, I breathed through the tightness in my chest. “I don’t think I can forgive him,” I finally admitted as my fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “I miss him, Dad. I hate him so fucking much, but I miss him. But I can’t forgive him.”
“And you don’t have to. He hurt you and betrayed your trust. It’s just…” Dad drifted off, but I didn’t dare take my attention off the road. It was sleeting harder now. “I’ve never seen you happier than you were with him. He’s a good kid, even if he made a mistake.”
“He cheated on me with his ex,” I snapped, and Dad held up his hands in surrender.
“I know. I’m not—I’m on your side, Silas. Always.” Cautiously, he reached over and patted my shoulder, and I blinked back the sudden emotion stinging my eyes. “Just don’t let bitterness control your life. You’ve spent the last few years angry at your mom, and it shaped you more than you want to admit.”
“What does Mom have to do with this?” I slowed my speed as Mabel fishtailed slightly.
“Nothing. It’s—”
“She left,” I ground out between clenched teeth. “You stayed. There’s nothing left to say.”
The cab was silent for several minutes before Dad said, “She was a very broken woman, Silas. But for all her faults, I loved her.”
“You deserved better,” I said unapologetically, and he winced.
“I don’t know about that. If I hadn’t stuck by your mom, I wouldn’t have you. And if there is one thing I will never regret in my life, it’s you and Will.” He was staring out of the windshield, blinking rapidly. “You’re my boys, and I wouldn’t change a damn thing about my life if it meant giving you up.”
My vision blurred, impairing my already perilous view of the road, and since my hands were gripping the steering wheel like my life depended on it, I couldn’t stop a few stray tears from dripping down my cheeks.
“I love you too, Dad.”
Clearing his throat, he sniffed and nodded. “Slow down. There’s a curve coming up.”
I knew that, but I nodded anyway. “Okay.”
“I may not have a platform to stand on to give relationship advice, but don’t let unforgiveness and pride ruin something that could be good for you. It’s not worth it,” he said softly. “Bad choices don’t make us bad people. It makes us human.”
“And if I was nothing but a rebound to him?” I asked, and Dad had the audacity to laugh.
“If that boy didn’t love you, he wouldn’t have stuck around.” He knocked my shoulder lightly. “You’re not always the most pleasant company.”
“Wow!” I shot him a glare before refocusing on the slippery road. “You’re not pulling your punches tonight.”
“You don’t do well with subtlety.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong there.
“I don’t know if I can forgive him,” I said again. “And I’ve been kind of an asshole the past few weeks, so he might not forgive me, either. Maybe neither of us deserves forgiveness.”
His hand returned to my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Forgiveness isn’t about what we deserve, and neither is love. It’s why both are considered a gift. And when you find someone who’s willing to give you both, then I’d say they’re someone pretty special.”
Guiding Mabel around the curve in the road, I glanced at my dad. He was smiling softly, barely a hint of a thing, and my chest exploded with warmth. I didn’t know what I’d done in a past life to deserve a father like him, but I was a lucky bastard.
“Dad—”
Bright yellow light washed over his face, and his smile dropped into an expression of horror. “Silas!”
I faced forward, blinded by oncoming headlights. “Fuck!”
I yanked the wheel to the side, and Mabel groaned beneath me. Wheels squealed as the truck spun out on the slippery road. Then my world exploded into screeching metal and shattering glass.
My truck lurched and shuddered, gears grinding as we tipped, then rolled. Gravity lost meaning, and I was thrown around like a rag doll as my seatbelt dug painfully into my torso. Metal crunched. My window blew out, peppering my face with searing shards of glass. Pain burst in my head as I hit something, my vision blurring with black spots and whirling darkness. We tipped over the edge of the embankment, rolling again and again like the world’s worst roller coaster.
I knew I was screaming. I felt it in the burning in my throat and the tightness in my lungs. But I couldn’t hear a damn thing past the blaring of a car horn and the chaos of my truck being smashed to smithereens with me trapped inside.
It was a relief when agony ripped through my brain once more and everything went black.
My eyes shot open as I sucked in oxygen. My lungs shrieked in protest as I gasped, the air clouding in front of my mouth with every panicked exhale. I was upside down, held in place by my seatbelt. Something hot slid down my temple to my forehead where it drip, drip, dripped onto the metal ceiling beneath me. My hands scrambled for purchase against the roof of the truck, the warped metal slicing into my palms.
When I tried to move my legs, they didn’t respond. I glanced down—up?—and whimpered. The steering wheel crushed my thighs, trapping my lower body to the seat. I was stuck. I couldn’t feel my toes. I couldn’t feel anything.
Hysteria broke through my shock, and I screamed as I thrashed uselessly against the vise-like grip the steering wheel had on my legs. I twisted my body in an attempt to escape, but froze. I wasn’t alone in the truck. I’d forgotten.
“D-Dad?” A bloody hand—my hand—reached across the space between us.
Like me, he hung upside down, arms loose, body still. His face was covered in blood. He didn’t move.
“Daddy?” I touched his arm. “Dad, wake up.” My hand slid under his arm to his chest. “We have to get out of here. Wake up.”
His chest was motionless beneath my palm. That wasn’t right, was it? He should be breathing. People breathed.
“Dad?” I fisted his shirt and shook him. “Dad, wake up.”
He didn’t respond.
“Daddy!”
When he remained silent and still, I released his shirt and turned my attention to the immovable steering wheel. I had to get out of there. Dad needed help. We just had to get out of the truck, and everything would be fine. Dad would be fine. I just had to get out.
I pushed against the steering wheel with all my strength. My head pounded. My vision blurred. The sleet had turned to rain, and thick, sludgy mud trickled into the truck through the broken windows. The cold seeped into my bones, and I trembled.
“Help me,” I sobbed, struggling against the prison my truck had become. “Someone, help! Please, I don’t want to die. Don’t let me die here.”
Straining against my seatbelt, I pulled against the restraint of the steering wheel with every ounce of power I possessed. My numb legs twitched. I gritted my teeth. The steering wheel creaked. But then something in my hip popped, tearing out of place, and a white-hot agony ripped through me. I screamed as I’d never screamed before.
Shadows encroached on my vision, but I fought the bittersweet promise of unconsciousness. I had to stay awake; I had to get my dad out of here. But I wasn’t strong enough; the pain was too much to bear.
My head lolled to the side as distant sirens wailed in the night. Copper saliva flooded my mouth and trickled down my cheek to merge with the blood and sweat in my hair. A pathetic whimper escaped my lips as my eyes drifted shut.
I said, “Daddy, I’m sorry.”
Then the darkness engulfed me.
The air was stale and cold. It smelled sharp and medicinal. The sheets beneath my body were scratchy and stiff, and a steady rhythmic chirp beeped from somewhere beside me. I wanted to open my eyes, but I couldn’t locate them yet. So I remained in darkness.
I heard soft snores and the dull droning of a television set to low volume. My hand was warm, covered in something smooth and soft, and with every snored exhale, moist breath puffed over my fingers. Someone was sleeping next to me, holding my hand, and I felt something in me settle at the familiar touch.
I smelled spring soap and spearmint. I knew that scent, though, for the life of me, I couldn’t recall how. But it was important.
There was a soft click and hushed whispers reached my ears for a moment before they quieted once more. The room returned to its almost eerie quiet. It was unsettling. I tried once again to find my eyes. I knew I had them—I’d used them all my life—so they were out there somewhere. I just had to figure out how to operate them.
I found the muscles for my fingers first, and my pinkie jerked against the warm weight holding it captive. The snores cut off with a sharp inhale. The air shifted, and the hand on mine tightened around my fingers.
“Silas?” a familiar voice said, and my heart lurched. The beeping near my ear stuttered and spiked before returning to its even rhythm. A choked sob cracked in someone’s chest. “Si? Baby, are you there?”
I knew him, the angel saying my name. I needed to see him. I hated the sorrow in his voice, loathed it more than anything. I wanted to fix it; I had to fix it. But I was unable to find my eyelids, and the angel’s voice slowly faded into the dark.
I searched for him in the shadows. Sometimes, I found him, and he’d be saying things like, “I got another blanket. You had goosebumps on your arms.”
And, “Will keeps glaring at me. You should tell him to stop. He might listen to you.”
And, “I’d give anything to hear you say my name. Please, Si, just say my name.”
The angel wasn’t my only visitor. My brother was there every now and then. He’d say, “Don’t you leave me too. Don’t you fucking dare.”
And, “You’ve always been stubborn, Silas. Don’t give up now.”
And, “She’s kicking. Here. Feel.”
Like a ghostly apparition, I felt my arm lifted, my hand placed on something warm and round. A separate something punched against my palm like a battering ram.
“She wants to meet you,” Will said, voice thick and wrecked. “Keep fighting so she can meet her Uncle Silas.”
There were others in the fog, voices I should have known but didn’t always. People cried a lot. They touched my hair, my arm, my shin. Cora was nice to me. Maybe it was because I couldn’t talk. We got along better when I didn’t talk.
Most of the time, I was all alone in the inky blackness. I didn’t mind that, either. It was nice here. Comfortable. Nothing hurt. Sometimes, I knew enough to realize I was sleeping. Other times, I believed this was all there was, my own universe of never-ending night.
But dreams never lasted, and eventually, the suffocating dark lifted. Dad squeezed my hand and said, “It’s okay, son. It’s time to wake up, now.”
“Won’t you come with me?” I asked him, and he smiled.
“I think I’ll stay here a while longer.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll see you later, then.”
“I never regretted you boys,” Dad said. “Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t,” I promised. “Bye, Dad.”
He never replied. He simply faded into the shadows as I floated toward the surface of the sea I’d been lost in for long enough.